


Tim!Bats Adventures

by Living_Free



Category: Batman - All Media Types
Genre: Bruce Wayne is retired, Crack, Damian Wayne is Robin, Dick Grayson is Nightwing, Dick has babies!!!, Family Bonding, Fluff, Gen, Humor, Jason Todd is Red Hood, Jason is in a polyamorous relationship, M/M, Tim Drake is Batman, batfamily, but he won’t go away, he just hangs around the batcave and nags everyone
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-06
Updated: 2018-07-16
Packaged: 2019-03-27 21:20:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 11,594
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13889370
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Living_Free/pseuds/Living_Free
Summary: Tim Drake is Batman, but everyone lives and life is not crappy.a.k.a - Tim as Batman really fascinated me, but I can’t go for the DC Edgelord “Everyone must Die and Batman is Miserable” setting, so welcome to my world!Tim has inherited the cowl, and goes about his life as Batman, with Damian by his side as Robin. These are their adventures, but of the domestic type. Featuring Dick Grayson, who has adopted many cute babies, Jason Todd, who has a dildo collection, and a retired Bruce, who continues to nag everyone.





	1. Chapter 1

Looking at a sixteen year old Damian puttering around the cave, Tim couldn’t help but marvel at how the boy had grown. There was a time that he had thought that he wouldn’t see Damian like this, right after he had escaped from Oz’s clutches and his perverted visions of the future.

For months after his escape, Tim had been plagued by the thoughts that his family would break up. Dick would leave and settle elsewhere, leaving them behind once and for all. Jason would be a globetrotting vigilante, who would end up handicapped and addicted to drugs, and Damian-

Would be dead by Tim’s hand.

Batman’s hand.

Looking at Damian now, calmly soldering armour together, Tim felt a rush of relief and affection for the boy. Oz’s future was based on half truths and extrapolations, Tim had learned much to his delight, because while part of the visions had come true, others had most certainly not.

Jason had left Gotham, and had become a fearsome, globetrotting vigilante, just as Oz’s future had said. What that future had not mentioned was the family group chat being rife with messages from him and his team of Outlaws posing in front of the Louvre, or the Char Minar, or the Great Wall. Each successive picture saw Jason standing closer to Roy and Kori, and the vein in Bruce’s head throbbing more and more visibly.

Where Oz’s future had shown Jason with a peg leg and no eye, it did not show threesomes and a global dildo collection, so Tim concluded that Jason was safe.

Dick’s story had not ended in Gotham, and he had settled down - in San Francisco. More specifically, in Titans tower, where he went down the Bruce route and adopted as many cute babies as he could. Tim fondly recalled his toddling nephews and niece all showing their horrified Grampa Boos how they could turn themselves into pretzels. Nightwing was still a common fixture in Gotham, and Dick and his brood could usually be found in the manor or the cave, trailing Damian to smother him with Love.

While Dick had moved away, Oz had not taken into account his absolute devotion to his family, and his insistence that his children grow up with their Uncle Timmy, Uncle Dami, and Grampa Boos, so Tim concluded that Dick, too, was safe.

And clingy, but that was another story.

Eventually, Bruce decided (was forced to) retire. Dick had tearfully pleaded with Bruce that he did not want him to perish in the line of fire, and used his three children as props in his emotional speech to great effect. Now, Bruce spent his time going between work, deflecting Clark’s puppydog affection, and having yucky old man sex with Selina. When Bruce had retired, he had passed the mantle of the Bat to a very surprised and wary Tim. His immediate instinct was to refuse, thinking that it would be the first step leading to Damian’s inevitable death when they clashed for the cowl.

Instead, Damian surprised Tim by staying on as his Robin. Where the boy was once combative and hostile, he was now mellow and methodical to the point that he took after Tim more than anyone else in the family. It seemed that Oz had forgotten that time could ripen the rawest fruit, and underestimated Damian’s ability to empathize with others.

And if said empathy was brought about by prolonged exposure to Dick, then Tim wasn’t going to complain.

“He’s so...calm,” Tim whispered, watching Damian shine his armour. “It’s surreal. I keep expecting him to explode at any moment, and he just...”

“Defies your expectations?” Dick grinned. “That’s what little brothers are for.”

“He follows my orders in the field without a word,” Tim said, disbelieving. “Six years ago, you wouldn’t have thought it possible,” he said, remembering the rabid, murderous, ten year old.

“Well, six years ago, he didn’t have a proper family,” Dick said, “and he didn’t know what it was like to lose family,” he said pointedly. “I think he truly realized that we live dangerous lives, and that the last thing he says could be just that. Losing you drove the point home, and he doesn’t want to make that mistake again.”

“Huh,” Tim said, watching Damian stack up his cleaned armour and go over to milk Batcow. “He really does care.”

Tim turned back to the Batcomputer and pulled up the main directory.

Desktop  
> My Batcomputer  
>> Hidden Drive: (T)  
>>> Folder: Futures  
>>>> Subfolder: Oz  
>>>>> File: Demon Brat.docx

He opened up Damian’s file, and checked that the boy had his back to him before typing:

Conclusion: Like the visions for J. Todd and R. Grayson, the visions I had of D. Wayne do not hold water. It is my opinion that the subject is therefore SAFE.

With a satisfied smile, Tim hit the small, red, cross and watched the file close down for the last time


	2. Chapter 2

It was at times like this that Tim truly understood Bruce’s paranoia for his children’s well-being. It was five ‘o clock in the morning, and he and Damian had called it a night before retiring to the manor, where Damian immediately headed up to bed. Tim gave it fifteen minutes before his post-patrol adrenaline forced him to go and check on Damian. It had been a rough but victorious night battling against Bane and Scarecrow, and Tim couldn’t shake the feeling of terror as he watched Bane barely miss landing a blow against Damian’s chest.

He crept up the stairs and waited outside Damian’s closed door for several minutes before peeking inside. Damian was fast asleep, clutching his old Red Hood plushie. Tim grinned at the sight and watched his brother’s chest rise and fall in sleep before he backed out of the room and shut the door.

He turned around with a fond smile still on his lips and jerked in shock as he came face to face with a frowning Bruce.

“It doesn’t get easier.”

“Wow, thanks, Bruce.”

Bruce rolled his eyes. “It’s never easy seeing your family run headfirst into war,” he said. “Especially not when it’s your youngest, and your biggest responsibility.” Bruce fixed Tim with a piercing stare. “Don’t ever forget that, Tim. He is your biggest responsibility,” Bruce said, jerking his head towards Damian’s door. “Don’t make the same mistakes I made,” he said sadly.

Tim gulped. If he were Dick, he would have told Bruce that he was a brilliant father. Jason would have snorted and walked away. Tim settled for the truth. “You got better, towards the end. You started getting the hang of...being a dad.”

“Twenty five years too late,” Bruce said bitterly. All those years trying to save Gotham from itself and neglecting his little Dickie, then Jason, and poor little Tim...

“We’re alright, Bruce,” Tim affirmed. “All of us.” He slung his arm around Bruce’s shoulder, noting irritatedly that he had to reach up quite a bit.

“Yes,” Bruce grinned, a true, wide, goopy, grin. “We’re alright.”

_____________________________________________________________________________________

It was nine ‘o clock in the morning when Tim dragged himself to the dining table, intent on depleting the contents of the coffee pot.

“Good morning, Timmy!”

Curse Dick and his perpetual good cheer.

“Morning, Dick.”

“Morning, Uncle Timmy!”

“Morning, Thomas,” Tim greeted Dick’s eldest.

“Uncle Timmy, I can has coffee like you?” Maya asked, holding out her sippy cup.

“Of course,” Tim said, smiling down at his only niece, “you want to take after your favorite Uncle Timmy, don’t you, my little CEO?”

“NO,” Dick thundered, and whisked his daughter away. “No coffee!”

Tim grinned and made a face at the baby in the high chair. “And good morning to you, Jason the Second.” He was rewarded with a mischievous grin that was eerily similar to his namesake’s. Dick had really chosen his son’s name well.

“Tim, we have a meeting at eleven,” Bruce said from the head of the table. “Eat up, we need to leave.”

“I don’t see why you have to drive me,” Tim whined. “I’m twenty two years old. I drive the Batmobile!”

“You have road rage,” Bruce replied. “It’s an asset as Batman, but its an offence as a civilian.”

“I don’t,” Tim grumbled, but waddled over to the coffee pot nonetheless. To his horror, he found the pot empty. “H-how! T-the coffee! I-“

“Drake,” Damian said, and handed him a thermos, “you’ll be late.” Tim stared at Damian with wide eyes, and blinked slowly before breaking into a huge, toothy, grin.

“You made me coffee?”

“Tt. Don’t get used to it. It was only because you’re running late, and I don’t want the company to lose out on a valuable deal just because you were waiting for your disgusting brew.”

“You love me,” Tim said triumphantly, and snagged the coffee before Damian could work himself up into a blushing, angry, loud denial.

In the car, Tim opened up the thermos and took a chug. The beans were over roasted, the taste was too bitter, and there was too much milk to suit his discerning palate.

Tim drank every last drop. 


	3. Chapter 3

Tim was performing his usual post-battle checkup on Damian, and was riding on a bit of a high from the night. They had been on a League mission, and had stopped Lex Luthor from executing Nefarious Scheme No. 4839 For World Domination. Tim intended to congratulate Damian for defusing a critical bomb and then go to bed, when he heard a muffled sound from Damian’s room.

Tim pushed the door open and peered in to see Damian sniffling sadly into his blanket. Tim’s heart stuttered, and he backed away.

Why was Damian crying? He wasn’t supposed to cry, he never cried! What should he do? Tim didn’t have experience with comforting crying siblings - that was mainly Dick’s thing. Damnation, where was Dick when you needed him?

Tim took a deep breath and walked into the room, and gently perched himself on the edge of the bed. “Hey Dames,” he said softly, “what’s wrong?”

Damian started and in true demon brat fashion, threw a pillow at Tim. “Drake! What do you think you’re doing here!?”

“I, um, heard you crying and came to check if you were okay. What’s wrong?”

“Nothing, I have allergies,” Damian huffed.

Tim prayed for patience and looked around the room for a hint of what had caused Damian’s distress. The bookshelves were lined with numerous volumes on weaponry, fighting styles, and animal care, and the walls were decorated with various ceremonial daggers and swords that Talia sent every year on Damian’s birthday. On the bedside table were several family photos (of Dick and the babies) and more knives.

Tim felt around the sheets and found Damian’s old Red Hood doll nestled amongst the sheets. He fought back a smile and propped it up on the pillow. So Damian was missing Jason. That was adorable! “Damian,” he said gently, “it’s going to be alright. He’ll come back, he always does.”

“Tt,” Damian grunted, suppressing more tears.

“You know that he misses you too, right?” Tim continued. “I bet he has a little Robin toy to keep him company.”

“Silence, Drake,” Damian sniffled, blowing his clogged nose.

Tim took pity on his pathetic, emotionally constipated little brother and pulled out his phone to text Jason.

>>SENT: Damian misses you and he’s crying.

<<RECIEVED: wtf rly?

>>SENT: Yup. He has his little Red Hood doll out and he’s crying. I bet he’d cheer up if you sent a pic.

The next second, Tim’s phone pinged with a new message. He quickly downloaded the file and smothered a snort when he saw Jason’s shirtless selfie, complete with duck lips. “Hey Dames,” Tim said, nudging the sad boy, “I have something that’ll cheer you right up,” he said as he handed over the phone.

Damian glanced at the phone and flung it down with a shriek. “Drake! What is the meaning of this!?”

“Damian, relax. I miss him too, you know. I just thought that a picture might lift your mood.”

“Why on earth would a picture of Todd make me feel better!? And why do you miss Colin!?”

Tim stopped short. “Wait, Colin?”

“Yes!” Damian seethed, “Why do you miss my boyfriend!?”

“I...I...,” Tim stuttered.

Damian looked at Tim like he had taken leave of his senses. “Colin is at his summer internship in Japan,” he said slowly, deliberately. “I miss having my boyfriend in my arms. Now I will ask you again, Drake,” Damian said, slowly advancing upon Tim and pinning him to the bed, “Why. do. you. miss. my. boyfriend.”

“I thought that you missed Jason!” Tim shrieked in horror from underneath Damian. “I saw your Red Hood toy, and I thought- Jason!”

“Ah,” Damian said in realization, “that was why you showed me the pornography of Todd.”

“It wasn’t pornography, Jay’s got a shitty sense of humor,” Tim grumbled, “he sent it to me to show you. I told him that you missed him.”

“Tt.”

“You do miss Jason, don’t you?”

“...at times.”

Tim grinned happily. “You love us,” he beamed, “you wuv us.”

“You are on thin ice, Drake,” Damian growled. “Now leave me, I am going to video call my beloved and have a nice wank.”

“Ugh!” Tim retched and shot out of the room. Safely outside, Tim sent another message to Jason.

>>SENT: False alarm. Damian was just horny.

<<RECIEVED: wtf timbo, that’s our baby brother.

>>SENT: No, idiot. He was crying because he missed Colin, but I thought he missed you.

<<RECIEVED: oh. howz he now?

>>SENT: Alright, he’s video calling Colin now to have a synchronized wank over different time zones.

There was a pause before Jason texted back.

<<RECIEVED: do u ever feel that we’re overly invested in each other’s lives?

Tim pondered over his statement before typing out his reply.

>>SENT: I have no sense of boundaries because I was emotionally neglected during my formative years. Dick was the first person to ever love me.

<<RECIEVED: Cool, let’s blame Dick.

Tim howled with laughter as he read the message. Somehow, he didn’t think that Dick would be overly displeased by that.


	4. Chapter 4

Tim was just wrapping up a very financially lucrative deal when there was a polite knock on his office door. He barely glanced up from the paperwork before calling, “Enter!”

“Hi-um, hello, Mister Timmy, sir.”

Tim looked up at the hesitant form of address and saw Colin Wilkes, aka Abuse, aka The Defiler of Damian. Overall, a nice kid, if a bit skittish. “Colin, I’ve told you to call me Tim,” he said, waving the lanky boy into a chair, “we’ve known each other for years. Was there something you needed?”

Colin settled into the seat across from Tim and shifted under the man’s intense gaze. “Well, um, sir, I was hoping to get your...permission, sir. To, um, court Dami.”

Tim’s eyebrows shot up in surprise. “You want to court Damian,” he repeated slowly. “I thought that you two were dating already.”

“Yessir, we are,” Colin said eagerly, “and don’t get me wrong, I love Dami more than anyone in the world. I just wanted you to know that, before I, um, commit to him...fully.”

“Oh,” Tim said.

 _Ooooohh_ , Tim realized, slower.

“Colin,” Tim said carefully, “I appreciate you coming to me, but this is something that requires Damian’s consent over anyone else’s. Have you asked him how he feels about, er, _commitment_?”

“Of course,” Colin replied. “Dami said that I needed to get permission from his head of house before he entered into a fully binding relationship, so I thought because you’re Dami’s big brother, and you’re the CEO of Wayne Enterprises, I should get your permission before, you know...” Colin petered off shyly.

Tim felt as though he had been struck by a bolt of lightning. More specifically, the bolt of inaccurate teenage communication. “Colin,” Tim said, “I don’t think that Damian understood what you meant.”

“What do you mean?”

Tim blew a thin breath out of his nose before saying, “I think that Damian thought that you were proposing.”

“But I am,” Colin said, confused. “I’m proposing that we have sex.”

Tim felt his soul shrink at the mere mention of copulation in conjunction with his little brother. “I think Damian thought that you were proposing marriage.”

Colin’s eyes widened comically. “Oh,” he said, before lapsing into silence. After a minute, a truly beatific smile split across his freckled face. “Can I marry Dami, please?”

“NO.” At Tim’s refusal, Colin slumped into his seat, looking forlorn. Tim quickly recalled the image of a crying Colin from six years ago, and cringed. It had not been a pretty sight, and he had no wish to have a repeat performance today. “I mean,” he added hastily, “that you’re both sixteen, and that you’re not ready yet. Or legal,” he added quickly. “You should wait till you both have jobs, and houses, and all that jazz.”

“Ok, okay,” Colin said, “that’s pretty reasonable. Thanks, Timmy.”

Tim nodded but didn’t reply, leaving them in an awkward, silent, limbo. “Um, just out of curiosity,” he said, breaking the tense silence, “why didn’t you go to Bruce? Why come to me?”

“Oh, Mister Wayne is scary, though,” Colin said. “He goes all growly and like, big daddy Bat when he sees me. You’re much more likable.”

Tim grinned. “I like you too, Colin. Frankly, I’m glad Damian’s with you.”

“Really?”

“Really,” Tim affirmed. “Now, don’t you have something to clarify with Damian?” he asked pointedly.

“Oh!” Colin blushed, leaping out of his seat. “I-I need to go! Bye Timmy, it was great talking to you!” With that, he shot out of the room, presumably heading to Wayne Manor.

When Colin left, Tim pulled out his phone to text Damian.

>>SENT: Damian, did you ever have the Talk?

<<RECIEVED: Drake, what is the meaning of this lewd communique!?

>>SENT: Just answer the question.

<<RECIEVED: Yes. Grayson gave me the talk, and Todd told me where Father keeps the ribbed condoms. He insists that they feel superior to the unribbed kind.

>>SENT: Cool. Remember that lube is your friend, and that communication is important.

<<RECIEVED: Must we do this via texting?

>>SENT: Do you really want to sit down with me?

<<RECIEVED: Point taken. Was there a reason that your older brother instincts have flared up?

>>SENT: Let’s just say that Colin wasn’t proposing marriage to you.

<<RECIEVED: I see. I need to prepare some things. Goodbye.

<<RECIEVED: Thank you, Drake.

Tim grinned at the tiny message that somehow managed to carry Damian’s imperious tone, and felt a little flare of pride. Damian deserved to be happy.

======================================================================

The next morning, Damian waddled into the kitchen with as much poise as he could muster, despite the obvious limp. He sat down gingerly, fully aware that the eyes of his entire family were on him. He made a show of pouring a bottle of milk and setting up the high chair for Baby Jay, and proudly started in on his breakfast.

“Someone broke into my condom box last night,” Bruce announced from the head of the table.

Damian looked over and lowered his eyes reverently to Bruce. “It was me, Father,” he said gravely, “I needed them to engage in coitus. My apologies for not informing you before taking them, but it was a matter of some urgency.”

Dick choked on his cereal and rushed to cover his children’s ears while Tim typed out a quick message to the sibling group chat.

>>TIM: Damian has done the deed.

>>JASON: @Damian howz colin in the sack?

>>DAMIAN: We satisfied each other sexually, repeatedly.

>>JASON: did u use the ribbed condoms?

>>DAMIAN: Yes, they added significantly to the pleasure.

>>DICK: I’m so proud that you engaged in safe, consensual sex, Dami! It takes a lot of emotional maturity and communication to have good, lasting, sex!

>>CASS: how is bruce taking it

>>TIM: Badly. The Vein is throbbing in his head again.

>>JASON: did it occur to any of you that normal siblings prolly don’t talk about this?

>>DICK: We just want Dami to be safe and happy! Sex should be an open topic of conversation, it’s not taboo! We all do it!

>>TIM: I don’t.

>>JASON: that’s cuz u lazy

>>TIM: I’m asexual, you simpleton.

>>DAMIAN: Good insult, Drake.

>>TIM: Thank you, Damian.

“Why is everyone on their phones?” Bruce demanded angrily. “Someone talk to me - your father, the man who raised you all!”

As Dick dropped his phone and proceeded to smother Bruce with his unique brand of affection, Tim caught Damian’s eye across the table and raised his coffee mug in a silent toast to him. Damian inclined his head and toasted him back, before realizing that he was drinking the baby’s formula. Instead of spitting it out like a normal person, Damian swallowed the goopy mixture, loath to let anyone catch him making a mistake.

Tim grinned into his coffee, knowing that despite all the changes taking place, some things would just never change. 


	5. Chapter 5

It was Tim’s turn to supervise the Teen Titans. He’d tried to get out of it, but was ultimately guilted into it by Dick, who went on and on about the League’s responsibility to look after and guide the new generation of heroes. If he was being entirely honest, Tim had only come in order to escape Dick’s judgemental cow eyes.

“So,” Kon said, plopping down next to Tim, “you decided to do your duty after all, did you?”

“Hmm,” Tim hummed. “What’s your excuse for being here?“

“Jon’s coming today, and I wanted to show him the ropes. Kid’s finally thirteen, and he can officially join the Teen Titans now,” Kon said proudly. He turned to Tim and pouted. “Clark is a tit. He still doesn’t trust me with Jon.”

“Clark can be selectively stupid,” Tim agreed. It was evident to anyone with a functioning brain cell that Kon loved Jon as much as he didn’t care for Clark. “Why do you care what he says? You’re Superman now.”

“Yeah,” Kon grinned like a dope. “Look at us - Batman and Superman. Who’d have thought it?”

“I think the only reason Bruce lets us out is because he knows that Diana will keep us in line,” Tim snorted. “But you’re a great Superman,” he admitted to his friend, linking his arm through Kon’s.

Kon squeezed back gently and smiled, pulling Tim closer. “And you’re a great Batman. Better than Bruce, even.”

“Not better than Dick, though.”

“No, he was the Hot Batman,” Kon said wistfully. “That booty in the batsuit fueled so many teenage fantasies for the Titans.”

“Ugh, ew.”

“Oh yeah, everyone was totally hot for DickBats,” Kon admitted. “Cassie would-“

“Stop talking about my brother like he’s a piece of meat,” Tim said, smacking a chortling Kon lightly. “Go back to praising me on what a good Batman I am.”

“You’re amazing,’ Kon said genuinely. “I mean, look at Damian. I wouldn’t have thought it possible, but you guys work together so well. I want that for me and Jon, too.”

“Damian’s really grown up, huh?” Tim said, smiling wistfully.

The pair looked over at their younger brothers, where Damian was showing Jon the archery range. When Jon hefted the bow up, Damian gently corrected his grip with a light click of his tongue, and watched intently as Jon managed to hit the bullseye. He smiled softly as Jon then proceeded to talk his ear off, and allowed the younger boy to drag him to the weight training area.

“Do you remember what they were like when they first met?” Kon asked.

“Oh god,” Tim sniggered, “remember when they hid in the Batjet, and Bruce took it into space for an emergency mission?”

“Dick and Clark lost their minds,” Kon laughed. “But Damian would make a good big brother,” he observed.

“He’d make a good Batman,” Tim said, and was surprised to discover that he meant it.

“He would,” Kon agreed. “I’ll give Superman to Jon, and then we’ll elope to the Bahamas and live happily ever after in a platonic, sexless, marriage.”

“Dick would be sad if he wasn’t invited to the wedding,” Tim said.

“Ma would never forgive me if she didn’t get to make the wedding cake,” Kon added. “How about this - we’ll get married on the farm, and then I’ll whisk you away to the Bahamas for the honeymoon. We can use that private island that Dad gave me on my brithday.”

“Bruce would follow us,” Tim giggled, “and I didn’t know that Lex gave you an island.”

“Bruce has issues,” Kon snorted. “He wouldn’t even allow you to sleep over at the farm.” Kon didn’t blame Bruce for his overprotectiveness of Tim, though. After they had gotten him back from Oz, the family had liked to keep Tim close, and Damian had made it his life’s mission to make sure that Tim was “safely confined” to the manor when he wasn’t on patrol.

“I’ll tell you what,” Tim whispered huskily, “we’ll just have to read smutty fanfic in my room for the honeymoon.”

“Ooh, stop, you’re getting me all tingly,” Kon giggled.

As though sensing that someone was trying to infringe on Tim, Damian popped up, looking murderous. “Kent! Cease perving on Batman, or I’ll-“

“You’ll what?” Kon teased, pulling Tim in by the waist. ”Beat me up? I have superstrength.”

Damian glowered. “I have a venom-enhanced boyfriend who is more than capable of pulverizing you.”

“Point taken,” Kon said somberly. “Tim, wait for me, my love. I’ll whisk you away under the cover of darkness.”

“I’ll wait with bated breath,” Tim replied, noting with amusement that Damian didn’t seem to get the joke.

“I’m going to tell Father,” he snarled, “he’ll put a stop to this, just you wait!” Damian stormed off, pulling out his phone, presumably to tattle on the family group chat. A minute later, Tim’s phone pinged.

>>DAMIAN: The Clone was engaging in salacious acts with Drake!

>>JASON: yooo go get some platonic affection timbo

>>DAMIAN: The Clone is proposing marriage!

>>DICK: OuO so cute!!!!

>>DAMIAN: He is proposing that they elope!

>>DICK: Dami get the kryptonite gun

>>DICK: No wait, use the bazooka

“Kon, your life is in mortal danger,” Tim informed his friend.

“Right, I’m out,” Kon said, flying off. “Yeet.”

Tim watched Kon take off, just as Damian ran in with the kryptonite bazooka. “You just missed him,” he informed his little brother.

“Tt. Next time, then.”

Tim stared at Damian in shock before bursting into laughter. In the spur of the moment, Tim reached out and grabbed Damian’s face in his hands, startling the boy into silence. “Never change, Dames,” Tim said before walking off. “Never change.”


	6. Chapter 6

It had been a rough night, and Tim couldn’t keep his eyes open by the time that the Batmobile rolled into the cave in the wee hours of the morning. Damian leapt out of the car and ran around to Tim’s side to let him out. “Lean on me, Drake,” he murmured, looping an arm around Tim and carrying him out. “Grayson!” Damian bellowed, “Grayson! Todd! Father! We need a medic!”

Dick ran out and heaved Tim into his arms while Jason and Bruce set up the surgery table. “He was hit with fear toxin,” Damian informed them, struggling to keep his voice from quavering. “He punched out Scarecrow, but got a facefull of toxin, and he just fell to the ground - didn’t even stir. I tried to keep him awake and talking, but he didn’t wake, the enormous fool-“

Dick allowed Jason to take Tim and wheel him into the medbay and turned around to bring Damian into a hug, effectively cutting off his tirade. “Oh, Dami.”

“Tt,” Damian clicked his tongue, but allowed himself to be drawn into a hug. After several minutes of Dick humming soothing show tunes and cradling Damian, he finally spoke. “Stupid Drake. Stupid Scarecrow. Stupid Gotham. Stupid Father and his stupid crusade.”

“Hey now,” Dick chastised him, “Tim isn’t stupid.”

“He is!” Damian exclaimed. “He should have gone on the defensive, with me on the attack, but he pushed me out of the way and now he’s-“

“Oh, Dami, no,” Dick whispered in horror. He glanced over at Tim’s prone form with Jason and Bruce toiling away over him. 

“Dami yes!” Damian boomed. “If Drake had stayed back like I’d told him to-“

“Then it might have been you on that table,” Dick said, “and how do you think Tim would feel about that?”

“I’m Robin! I should protect my Batman!”

“And you’re our baby brother,” Dick soothed him. “That takes precedence for us. We’re always going to protect you.”

“Tt.”

“Tt,” Dick teased, pressing a kiss into Damian’s hair. At that moment, the surgery doors opened and Jason and Bruce stepped out, looking dour. 

“How is he?” Damian asked timidly. 

“He’s...sleeping,” Bruce said distantly, as though he couldn’t quite believe it himself. 

“Sleeping!?”

“Yeah, I know,” Jason shrugged. “We ran some of his blood, and the best we can get is that the fear toxin was neutralized by Timbo’s caffeine intake.”

“What?” Dick asked, shocked. 

“We theorized that with Tim’s daily consumption of coffee being what it has been over a number of years, his body has adapted to having an unnaturally high amount of endorphins and dopamine in his bloodstream, which seem to counteract the effects of fear toxin,” Bruce explained.

On cue, Tim snored loudly, and mumbled indistinctly in his sleep as he turned on his side, while Dick, Damian, Jason, and Bruce watched him doze in wonder. 

“So you’re telling me that Tim’s coffee addiction actually helped him?” Dick asked. 

“As far as we can tell, yes,” Bruce agreed. “I would prefer that Tim didn’t find out about this - it would just encourage him to drink more coffee. Can we agree to just let him think that Jason and I healed him?”

Bruce’s question was met with murmurs of agreement. They lapsed into silence for a while, until Damian cleared his throat. “I will watch over Drake until he wakes,” he declared decisively. “Goodnight, family.”

“Goodnight, Dami,” Dick cooed, “you’re a good brother and a good Robin,” and planted an affectionate kiss onto his little brother, before doing the same to Tim. For a moment, Tim stirred and looked as though he might wake, but after fidgeting for a second, melted back into his pillows with a sigh and a smile. 

“Aww, ickle-Timmikins wuvs Dickie,” Jason sneered. 

Dick turned around at Jason’s words and spotted another target to Love. Sensing the imminent threat to his masculinity (as though Roy and his own dildos didn’t exist), Jason leapt away in order to avoid his older brother’s affection. Not one to admit defeat, Dick went after him, smiling and thinking about mindlessly fluffy things, as he was wont to do. 

Alone with Damian as the only other conscious occupant in the room, Bruce approached his youngest son. He reached out tentatively, and placed his hand on Damian’s shoulder. 

“Son.”

“It is of no use trying to placate me, Father,” Damian sighed, “I bear some degree of responsibility for Drake’s current state. I shall wait on him till he recovers.”

Bruce’s emotional constipation allowed only a single, terse, nod before he walked away. Somewhere, Dick was feeling disappointed in him, he was sure. Before he left the cave, Bruce glanced back smiled softly at Damian removing Tim’s boots and mask while the older boy snuffled in his sleep. They made a good pair, he realized. Who would have thought it?

………………………………………………………………………………………………………………

Tim stirred awake an hour later, only to see Damian meditating by his bedside, with one hand clasping Tim’s. 

“D-Damian?”

Damian opened his eyes slowly, vibrant green focusing on Tim’s sky blue pair. “Drake. How are you feeling?”

“I...fine,” Tim hedged. “I feel pretty refreshed, actually. What about you? Did you get Scarecrow?”

“Tt. Let’s just say he won’t be awakening as quickly as you did.”

“You killed him!?”

“No, I hit him. Hard,” Damian said. At Tim’s chastising look, Damian defended himself, “What? Comissioner Gordon said it was okay!”

Tim couldn’t hold the stern expression in the face of Damian’s rightful indignation and cracked a smile. “You did good, Dames,” he grinned. 

“Don’t tell Father,” Damian warned, “or he will brood for a week.”

Tim snorted. “That sounds like him. Did you neutralize the fear toxin in my system?”

“...yes.”

“Damian Wayne, don’t you lie to me,” Tim growled, picking up on the lie. 

“Don’t growl at me, Drake. I have been bound by the sacred bonds of secrecy that I shall not speak of your recovery. If you must know, then pester Grayson. He’ll crack like an egg if you give him puppy eyes.”

“Huh,” Tim said, recognizing the truth in Damian’s words. It was pitifully easy to make Dick talk when he pulled the “little brother” card. “So, are you going to go to bed now?” He asked Damian. 

“Yes. Budge over,” Damian said, unceremoniously shoving Tim to the side. “You have awakened from a battle injury, and I cannot simply leave you unattended,” he said, getting into bed with Tim and pulling the blankets up up to his chin. 

“You don’t have to-“

“Cease your prattling, Drake,” Damian said vehemently. “Your self sacrificial nature has already landed you in this bed. Had you let me take the offensive position as we had discussed, it would not have come to this. I will not have anymore of your mindless prattle. Go to sleep,” Damian bit out, and flopped over in bed, with his back to Tim.

For his part, Tim was left to marvel at Damian’s simultaneous emotional depth and abhorrence to expressing any of said emotion in a normal manner. At least he’s consistent with this family, Tim thought, as he draped him arm around Damian’s waist, and allowed blissful sleep to take him once more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am a bad, bad, person for not updating. Punish me. 
> 
> In all honesty though, life just got in the way. Much apologies, please forgive.


	7. Chapter 7

Tim adjusted his bowtie for the hundredth time, and scrutinized his reflection in the mirror. Although he loathed attending galas, the Wayne Charity Ball was perhaps the largest in the country, and his presence as CEO of Wayne Enterprises was integral. Besides, the proceeds went to the renovation of Gotham’s notorious Crime Alley, and Tim knew first hand how far the area had come since Batman’s (and Red Hood’s) first appearance.

“Stupid bow,” Tim murmured, struggling with the silk.

“Allow me, Master Timothy,” Alfred said, and deftly undid the sailor’s knot that Tim had done up. “I assure you that when I am through with you, you will look quite the dapper young man.”

“Thanks, Alfie,” Tim grinned sheepishly.

“Have you decided whom you will bring to the gala this year, Master Timothy?” Alfred asked with an air of nonchalance.

Tim groaned. “Do I have to, Alfred? People are just going to talk, and link me and my date up in the gossip rags.”

“Master Timothy,” Alfred said, looking aghast, “you will not attend the gala without a suitable partner. We cannot have the Wayne family looking as though we are wanting for partners, it simply will not do. You will find a partner and open the ball with them in style,” Alfred said firmly.

Tim groaned. He’d forgotten about the opening dance, where the chosen Wayne delegates would have the first dance. “Alfie, nooo,” he whined.

“Alfie yes,” Alfred replied. “Find a date, Master Timothy, or I shall set you up.”

Tim pouted mightily, but nodded submissively. When your butler-grandpa told you to do something, by jove, you did it, come hell or high water.

………………………………………………………………………………………………………………

“Tam~” Tim sang.

“Tim,” Tam replied seriously, shutting her best friend down.

“Wanna go to the ball with me?”

Tam Fox stared at Tim balefully. “Tim, I’m married, remember? You were my maid of honor.”

“Dammit!” Tim scowled.

“You have a meeting with R&D in an hour,” she added amusedly.

This day was getting off to a bad start.

………………………………………………………………………………………………………………

They had just vanquished an army of killer robots when Tim was struck with a bolt of inspiration. “Hey, Kon?”

“Yeah?”

“Wanna go to the ball with me?”

“Can’t, buddy,” Kon said apologetically, “I gotta stay up with the cow tonight. She’s been feeling poorly, and her teats are infected.”

“You’d choose a cow over your best friend?” Tim asked incredulously.

“Sorry,” Kon said genuinely, “but Bessie’s udder is really inflamed.”

Tim cursed every bovine on earth as he trudged back to the cave, intent on having roast beef for dinner.

………………………………………………………………………………………………………………

“Hey, Damian.”

“Drake.”

“Are you taking Colin to the ball?”

“No,” Damian sniffed, “and I am not attending either.”

That threw Tim for a loop. “What? Why?”

“Colin has contracted the common cold, and I am going to spend the night with my beloved and nurse him back to health,” Damian explained.

“Oh,” Tim said, “because I was kinda hoping that you would come with me.”

Damian looked up in surprise. “Come again?”

“Nobody will go to the ball with me,” Tim said forlornly, “and I was hoping that I could take you. But if Colin’s sick, then I understand that you would want to stay with him.”

Damian’s expression softened, and he nodded. “I see. Thank you for understanding, Drake.”

“Yeah,” Tim said wistfully. “It might have been nice, you know? Just the two of us, talking about snooty people behind their backs, getting the best stuff at the buffet...”

“Perhaps next time,” Damian said slowly.

“Yeah,” Tim grinned, “next time.”

“Timmy, no!”

Sensing the opportunity for sibling bonding rapidly slipping away, Dick Grayson popped into existence. “You can go with Dami! I’ll take care of Colin tonight, he likes me! You and Dami can go to the ball and have fun!”

“Dick,” Tim said carefully, “you’re foaming at the mouth.”

“TAKE. DAMI. TO. THE. BALL. TIMMY.”

Tim looked askance at Damian, who nodded. “Let me inform Colin about the change in plans,” he said, pulling his phone out. “Hello, Beloved? Grayson said that he would care for you tonight, I have to take Drake to the ball as he is incapable of finding human companionship. Yes, Grayson gives good cuddles. The best. Yes, I’m sure, I tested them myself. Fare well, my love, and don’t get the children sick.” Damian put the phone away and turned to Tim. “Alright, Drake, get ready, I will take you to the ball,” he said authoritatively.

Dick beamed. “I got you this great bow tie, Dami, it’s green with black polka dots and it would bring out your eyes so well-“

Tim left Damian to Dick’s tender mercies and bounced off to get ready. He might not find Prince Charming at the ball tonight, but he supposed a bratty little brother was just as good, if not better.

………………………………………………………………………………………………………………

The hall was abuzz with excitement as the elite Gothamites whispered amongst themselves as to who would be Tim’s date for the ball. Would she be a busty blonde? A supermodel? Would the young Wayne have the same taste in partners as his father, and go for a witty, fit, brunette?

Nevermind that Tim was publicly out as an asexual with a slight romantic preference for men. Society decided that everyone must confirm to their norms, and damn the individual’s identity.

The doors swung open, and Tim walked in regally, arm in arm with none other than Damian Wayne. The reporters fell on the pair instantly.

“Mr. Wayne!”

“Mr. Wayne!”

“Mr. Wayne!”

Damian looked confused. “Whom are you addressing? We are both Mr. Wayne, you plebeian.”

“Damian!” One reporter called, “Why did you accompany your brother tonight?”

“Tt.”

“Damian, didn’t you have another date for tonight?”

“Tt.”

“Damian! Damian! What can you tell us about your eccentric choice of bow tie?”

“Tt.”

Tim covered his victorious grin behind a fake cough. Damian was notorious for not indulging the paparazzi, and the night was shaping up to be an amusing one, as the reporters became rabid in their efforts to get more than a “tt” out of Damian.

“Come on,” Tim whispered to Damian, “we have the first dance.”

“Tt,” Damian replied characteristically, and assumed the leading position. When Tim raised his eyebrows meaningfully, Damian replied, “You may lead in the field, Drake, but I am far your superior in terms of dance.”

“We’ll see about that,” Tim scoffed, and promptly ate his words, because man alive, Damian could dance.

And tango like a god, apparently.

“What the hell,” Tim muttered as Damian dragged him elegantly across the dance floor, “where did you learn to dance!?”

“Do you not recall when Grayson was teaching me?”

“I thought that he was hugging you,” Tim mumbled. “What? It’s a regular enough occurrence.”

“Not in this case. He was teaching me how to dance.” Damian paused. “He may have also exceeded his hug quota for the day, that sneaky, sneaky, snake.”

Tim smiled at the thought that Dick had recieved a Daily Hug Quota. It must be torture for the man. Tim placed hand on Damian’s back to steady himself, and felt something familiar...

“Are you carrying a knife!?” Tim hissed.

“Of course,” Damian replied calmly. “Don’t you dare patronize me, Drake, I know for a fact that you always carry a miniature laser nestled amongst your gonads.”

“Oh my god, it’s a hidden front pocket, not my gonads! And don’t say gonads!” Tim snapped.

“One false move and your chance at procreation will cease to exist,” Damian warned, looking meaningfully at the hidden laser.

“Stop looking at my noodle!” Tim hissed. “Why are you so concerned about my manly man appendage that is definitely above average length and girth?”

“Tt. I must plan for my future Robin.”

“Well, there’s always Dick’s kids,” Tim suggested.

“I would like Maya inherit my role,” Damian said determinedly. “She has the correct temperament, is strong and talented, and would be a credit as the first girl in the role.”

“Steph was Robin,” Tim reminded him.

“The first competent girl.”

Tim couldn’t help but laugh. Cameras clicked wildly as the reporters captured pictures of the happy Wayne brothers, and wondered what had made Tim Drake-Wayne laugh so brightly.

………………………………………………………………………………………………………………

**Meanwhile, at Wayne Manor...**

“Dick.”

“Quiet, Bruce,” Dick hissed, cradling a sleeping Colin, “you’ll wake him!”

“Why are you home!?” Bruce demanded in a hiss. “Tim and Damian are at the ball! Who the hell is Batman tonight!?”

“Oh, Jason,” Dick replied flippantly. Bruce quickly reached for his blood pressure medication. “Bruce, relax,” Dick said, rolling his eyes, “Jason promised not to shoot anyone. Fatally.”

“Who is Robin, then? People might get suspicious-“

“Cass is Robin tonight. I thought that it would be nice, since literally everyone else was Robin once. I didn’t want her to feel left out,” Dick said sweetly.

“My darling angel daughter is out dressed as Robin!? In your old suit-“

“In Damian’s suit,” Dick interrupted, rolling his eyes, “not mine. Relax, B, everything’s fine.”

“No! Everything is not fine!” Bruce growled, and stomped off to the batcave to take over the comms from Barbara. It was a strong effort, but ultimately, Barbara Gordon was not one to simply hand over her mantle as Oracle, not even to a nagging Bruce Wayne.

Bruce eventually slunk back upstairs in defeat. He would wait up for Tim and Damian, and make them see the huge error in their actions tonight-

“Meow, meow~” a seductive voice sang.

Bruce started. Dick had called in Selina to distract Bruce. But he was not a man to be easily moved.

“Meeeow,” Selina sang, and Oh Gotham, she was wearing her old Catsuit. Focus, Bruce.

“Bruce Wayne, you will leave the boys alone, and come upstairs and have sex with me this minute!”

“Yes, dear,” Bruce said, cowed, and followed his smug wife upstairs.

From the sofa next to Colin, Dick grinned. Tim and Dami were bonding, Jason was finally Batman for a night, Cass wasn’t left out, Barbara’s authority reigned supreme, Bruce was having old man sex with Selina, and he got to baby poor, sick, Colin.

Everything was perfect in Dick Grayson’s slightly twisted world. 


	8. Chapter 8

Damian was engrossed in his college course catalog when he felt an unholy presence seeping into existence behind him. It smelled curiously of waffles.

“Whatcha doin?” Stephanie sang, throwing her arms around Damian’s neck from behind.

Damian gritted his teeth. “Fatgirl. I am making a life altering decision, and your breathing is distracting. Kindly fling yourself out of the window.”

Stephanie peeked over Damian’s shoulder. “Ooh! Babybat’s going to college! Imma tell the others!” She pulled out her phone and typed out:

>> STEPH: Demon brat’s looking at college courses! Batfam assemble!

>> DAMIAN: You are not family, Brown.

>> CASS: She will be soon ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

>> STEPH: ♡ (￣З￣) love you babe  
>> DAMIAN: Stay away from my sister, you waffle guzzling fool Q( `⌒´Q) 

>> DICK: You’ll be great at anything you do, Dami! Just put your heart into it!

>> STEPH: He’s circled business studies!

>> JASON: boo u basic bitch

>> DAMIAN: I have not decided yet, Todd.

>> DICK: Everyone in the hall for a FAMILY MEETING 

>> BRUCE: I’m busty.

>> DICK: (ಥ_ಥ)

>> TIM: oh god

>> STEPH: slut 

>> JASON: ( • )( • ) _(:3 」∠)_ paint me like one of ur french girls

>> BRUCE: *BUSY

>> DICK: you’re coming, bruce. Q(ಠ_ಠQ)

The rest of the family was already in the sitting room when Dick dragged a whining Bruce in, proving just how serious his Q(ಠ_ಠQ) truly was.

Damian was seated between Tim and Jason, who were both debating the merits of a business degree, while Selina was grooming Damian’s hair. 

“Stepmother, I am not your kitten,” Damian huffed good naturedly. 

“But you are,” Selina purred, and dangled a thread of yarn in front his his face. Damian hissed and batted at it.

“Alright, family!” Dick called. “We’re gathered here to help Dami with his college options. He’s graduating one year early because he’s so clever!”

“Tt,” Damian tutted, but angled himself closer to Dick. 

“He’s staying in Gotham,” Bruce grumped. “I will not have my underage son leaving the house,” he said, giving Tim the stink eye. 

“I moved back in eventually,” Tim defended himself. “And besides, we’re here to discuss Damian, not me.”

“I am attending Gotham University on a full scholarship,” Damian said. “I am yet to choose a major, though.”

“You should choose what you love, Dami!” Dick trilled.

“Choose something that can be lucrative,” Tim said sagely. 

“Choose business studies,” Bruce grunted. 

“Don’t listen to Bruce,” Jason advised. 

Just then, the phone started to ring. Tim pressed the speakerphone button. “Wayne residence.”

“Damian my vicious Grandson,” R’as Al Ghul’s voice came through, “you should come back to the League to take your place as The Demon’s Head, with Timothy by your side as your faithful and loving-“

“NO,” Tim thundered and cut the line while Damian retched. 

“Holy incest, Batman,” Jason chuckled. 

“We have to focus on Dami’s career!” Dick said shrilly. “Dami, what do you like to do? That’s the most important thing.”

“I like...” Damian looked around, “I like to sketch-“

“No arts!” Bruce vetoed him. Damian Van Gogh was too terrible a future for Bruce to contemplate.

“I like animals,” Damian mused. “A veterinarian?”

“You’d be on call late at night,” Stephanie said. “Someone’s gerbil might have midnight diarrhea. You can’t be Robin and clean gerbil shit at the same time.”

“I like fighting,” Damian said, lighting up, “and knives, and maiming evildoers, and battle strategies, and developing new weapons, and- no?” Damian paused, looking at his family’s horrified faces.

“What else?” Cass asked. 

At that moment, baby Jay began to fuss on his father’s lap, and Dick swung into action, feeding, burping, powdering, and Loving his baby boy. 

“I like Jason,” Damian said softly, his eyes never leaving Dick. 

“What the fuck, you horny brat, we’re brothers!”

“Not you, you dim witted canary,” Damian snarled at an affronted Jason, “our nephew Jason. I love the children.”

The room fell silent as Dick passed baby Jay over to Damian. Jay settled easily into Damian’s arms and burbled happily as Damian rocked him gently. 

“What about early childhood education?” Tim suggested. Everyone turned to look at Tim with varying expressions of shock. “Why not?” Tim defended his choice. “Children in Gotham need a safe place where they can learn. Damian loves kids, and he can provide a good environment for them to learn and thrive.”

“You could teach self defense,” Jason mused. “Teaching defense from an early age instills self confidence and discipline. They would also be better equipped to fend off the criminal elements in the city.”

Damian looked bemusedly at Tim. “You think that I could run a school? That I could be a teacher?”

“Definitely,” Tim said firmly. “You’re the perfect balance of stern and loving, and kids love you. If we start instilling proper self-confidence and giving children a good education from a young age, they would be less likely to turn to crime.”

“Gotham would have a new generation of youngsters with a real shot at a future, and it would be all because of Dami!” Dick squealed happily. 

Tim turned seriously to Damian. “Take some time to think about it,” he advised. “If this is what you want, then I’ll invest money to open a school after you graduate and get some experience.”

Damian looked flabbergasted. Then, he surged forward and threw his arms around Tim and hoped that the hug could convey the mad swirl of emotions in his heart that he could not put into words. 

Tim was shocked for a minute, but slowly patted Damian’s back. “I trust you, Dames,” he said gently, and Damian squeezed harder. 

Unable to handle the Love in the air, Dick squealed happily and attempted to relieve the influx of emotion in him by hugging Jason. 

“Ack! Leggo of me, Dick!”

“Isn’t it beautiful, Jay? Their love is so pure! And soft!”

“Your nipples are touching mine! This is too weird!”

While Jason whined about family-nip-touch, Tim reveled in this closeness to Damian. When the boy had first arrived, he could not have imagined having such an intimate moment with his brother. Now, they had grown to the point that they could openly profess their trust for each other. 

Tim held onto his little brother and silently vowed to keep the boy in his arms as happy as this for as long as he could, or die trying. 

“I love you, Jay!”

“Fuck off, Dick!”

Tim smiled, and felt Damian grin into his shoulder as well. For now, all was right in the world.


	9. Chapter 9

Tim had just returned from a grueling patrol, and was waiting up from Damian, who was due to return from a space mission with the Titans. The sky was just beginning to brighten with the colours of the dawn when Damian walked into the living room with the poise of a princess.

“Good morning, Drake.”

“Damian,” Tim smiled at his prissy brother. “How was the mission?”

“We were victorious. There was sex pollen involved, but I was not affected as none of my colleagues will ever hold a candle to my beloved Colin.”

Tim snickered at Damian’s brutal assessment of his friends. “Any ouchies?”

“No, and cease calling them ouchies. You are not Grayson.”

This time, Tim laughed out loud. “Then go on up to bed. I’ll wake you up in a few hours.”

Damian made to leave, and then paused. “Is Grayson in my room again?”

“He fell asleep waiting for you,” Tim said as he started to make his morning coffee. “Try not to wake him up. We had to battle the Court of Owls again last night and he’s pretty tired. They keep trying to kidnap him.”

“Tt. I will eliminate those fools,” Damian vowed. 

“No killing,” Tim reminded him. 

“I shan’t kill, only severely maim. Goodnight, Drake,” Damian said primly. 

“See you,” Tim mumbled distractedly and reached for his coffee beans. Stupid high shelves, he cursed, his fingers stretched to their limits. Suddenly, he felt a warm wall behind him and turned to see Damian reach up behind him. 

“Here,” Damian said, handing the beans to Tim. “Perhaps you should see about adding the platform heels from the Batsuit to your house slippers.” 

Tim blushed and looked down at his bunny slippers. “It’ll ruin the aesthetic of Mr. Bun-Bun,” he pouted. Damian stared at him pensively, but did not move away. Instead he inched forward, backing Tim into the counter. 

“D-Damian?” Tim stuttered, shuffling backwards to put some space between them. “What are you doing?” Damian reached out and planted his hands on Tim’s shoulders the thoughtful expression still on his face. 

Tim staggered as Damian pulled him flush against his body. “Damian!” Tim cried. Did the sex pollen have a delayed reaction? Oh god, was Damian in love with him? He needed to move, to bring Damian to his senses, he needed to break Damian’s grip-

“I’m taller than you.”

Wait, what?

Damian smiled toothily. “I am taller than you, Drake,” he repeated happily, and for the first time, Tim realized that he was looking up a good two inches at Damian. 

Horror crashed through Tim, wracking his tiny body. He was officially the shortest Wayne now. His baby brother was taller than him. Robin was taller than Batman. He would have to add higher heels to the Batsuit. Jason was going to shit himself laughing. Any children that he had would be as tiny as he was, and there would be a whole line of abnormally small and hyper-caffeinated Waynes-

“Timmy! Dami! Oh, you’re hugging!”

Tim was jerked out of his spiral of doomed thoughts as Dick flounced in and saw Damian holding Tim to his chest. “So cute!” Dick squealed. Behind him, his children emulated their father and squealed as well. “Everyone, group hug!”

Little Thomas and Maya ran over and hugged Tim’s legs, and baby Jay crawled over to lie on Damian’s feet. 

“Dick,” Tim said numbly, “I’m short.”

“Don’t say that, Timmy,” Dick said, “you’re just cute-sized!”

“You’re short, son,” Bruce said, entering the kitchen. “But that was a given, the amount of coffee you had during your adolescence.”

Tim stumbled back and clutched his mug. “No!”

“Yes,” Bruce said gravely. “I tested your genes. You had the potential to grow to be five foot ten inches.”

At five foot seven inches, Tim seethed. “Why didn’t you say something!? Also, when did you test my genes?”

“I wanted you to be happy, not tall,” Bruce shrugged, “and I tested your blood when you were fifteen. I was concerned.”

“How tall will I grow, Father?” Damian asked. 

Bruce smiled. “Genetically, you have the potential to be as tall as Jason.”

Damian beamed, and Dick ruffled his hair fondly. As Damian had entered his teens, Jason had become the “cool” brother, for his intimidating height, leather jacket, swagger, and casual irreverence. Tim was the “idol”, whom Damian aspired to be like, and Dick, as always, was the “best”. 

“Excellent,” Damian said happily, before turning to Tim, who was still fretting about having tiny children. “Drake, stop worrying about your height. It will never limit you.”

Tim perked up and smiled hopefully. “Aw, thanks, Dames.”

“If anything, it will be your lack of a spleen and your somehow everpresent hayfever.”

“Hey!” Tim cried angrily, “Allergies are a legitimate cause of concern and a very real illness!” On cue, Tim sneezed, and Dick dashed forward with a tissue and dabbed Tim’s nose. 

“Dick!” Tim cried angrily, “I’m a twenty-two year old man, stop babying me!”

“Oh, sorry, Timmy,” Dick said. “I forget sometimes, because you’re so tiny,” he said evilly. 

Tim’s mouth dropped in horror, while Damian clapped his hand over his mouth. Alfred nodded, impressed. “That was quite savage, Master Richard,” he said appreciatively. 

“Jezebel!” Tim breathed dramatically, pointing at Dick, who looked unrepentant. 

Damian chuckled happily. “Well, I’m going to bed. Grayson, if I awaken to find you snuggling me again, I will pinch you. Todd, please maintain some decorum at the breakfast table - you are not an animal. And Drake?”

Tim startled and looked up from the spectacle that was Jason eating muesli. “Yeah?”

“I meant what I said before. Your height is not a limitation. It is simply a part of you. Accept it, and use it to your advantage,” Damian advised, and left. 

Tim felt off-kilter for a second as he digested Damian’s sage words of wisdom. “Wow,” he said lowly. “When did Damian become so wise?”

“Since you became his mentor,” Bruce responded proudly. “He’s learnt that there is more to success than sheer physical might.”

Tim blushed at the praise, and took on the coloration of a blotchy tomato. “I-I don’t...” He had never thought that Damian would be inspired by him. Tim couldn’t possibly be anyone’s mentor, that role was for people like Dick! Happy, charming, put-together people with several happy children and no caffiene addiction. 

Bruce wasn’t a good example because he wasn’t put-together. Bruce was a mess. 

Unable to deal with his elevated status, Tim ran away to vent to Kon on the phone. After Tim had left the room, Jason shook his head. 

“How can someone be so smart, and yet so stupid?” He asked. 

“Timmy is not stupid, he’s emotionally stunted,” Dick defended his brother. 

“Wow,” Jason snorted. “I wonder where he got that from.”

“I think Tim is fine,” Bruce said obliviously. 

Jason and Dick stared in disbelief at their Father, but before they could say anything, baby Jay spit up his breakfast on Bruce’s armani dressing gown. 

As Bruce flailed at being covered in baby goop, Dick and Jason sat back, happy to watch karma take her long awaited revenge.


	10. Chapter 10

It was a fairly humdrum morning at Wayne Manor when the doorbell rang, shattering the faux peace in the house. Tim performed a quick headcount of the house’s occupants to see if everyone was present.

Dick was heating up milk for the babies.

Jason was polishing his glass dildo. 

Damian was scolding Jason for polishing his glass dildo within sight of the babies.

Bruce was trying to get Selina to notice him by trying to be sexy, while Selina was busy playing with baby Jay, who seemed to be effortlessly captivating in a way Bruce would never be. 

Stephanie was reading smutty fanfic aloud, while Cass listened intently and Duke tried his level best to drown her out by humming Smash Mouth loudly. 

Alfred was busy dusting Priceless Song Dynasty Vase No.616.

Tim flattened himself against the wall by the door, crouching to intercept whichever intruder was on the other side. Everyone was at home, and accounted for, so who could this interloper possibly be?

Tim cautiously opened the door, and nearly fell apart at the man before him. “D-D-Damian?” 

Tim’s shrill voice alerted the family and they came rushing over. “Drake,” the man replied. The man on the doorstep was unmistakably Damian, but was markedly different. He was older, for one thing. The final remnants of Damian’s chubby cheeks had faded in order to give way to fine, chiseled, features. He was more muscular as well, and the plain white shirt did little to disguise the well defined body beneath it. 

His eyes, however, were recognizable instantly as Damian’s. Green, calm, and focused, there could be no doubt as to the man’s identity. 

The younger Damian surveyed the new version of himself and nodded. “Time travel?”

“Indeed,” Older Damian intoned, then said, “there was a Crisis. I will be going back to my own time in approximately,” he stopped to check his watch, “half an hour. Grayson, you may hug me,” he declared imperiously. Dick dashed forward and threw his arms around both Damians, cooing incoherently about how handsome you’ve become, Dami, you’re such a big boy now!

“Why did you say that!?” Damian demanded of his future self. 

“If there is one thing that I can safely say without introducing a time paradox,” future-Damian said, “then it is that you had best submit to Grayson’s affections sooner than later. It would save us some time, and we won’t have to see him pouting around the house.”

“Unca Dami?” Maya asked, toddling up to future-Damian. He smiled and picked her up.

“Maya, my Little Gem. I had never hoped to hold you like this again. You spend so much time running and flying that it is a rare chance to hold you.”

“Maya? Flying?” Dick asked. 

“But of course. Robin must fly.”

Silence fell in the hall. Then, Tim stuttered out, “Maya’s Robin? But then you-“ Oh God no, please let Damian have been alright, please let him have passed on the mantle naturally, please don’t have died like Jason had-

“I am Batman.”

Tim let out a breath that he hadn’t realized that he’d been holding. Beside him, he could feel Dick and Jason sagging in relief as well, and he was sure that Bruce would need to take his blood pressure pills tonight. 

Future-Damian turned to Tim and smiled beautifully, openly. “And you are Red Robin once more,” he informed Tim. “Your return to the role and the uniform made the Clone very happy.”

Tim hadn’t even considered his own fate. “Oh,” he said weakly. “Where do I, um, operate from?”

“Gotham, of course,” future-Damian said, peering at Tim as though he was daft. “We operate from the Manor, like we always do. Why, did you think-?”

Tim looked down at his feet and blushed. If it wasn’t death, it would’ve been a feud, or a falling out, or a misunderstanding - nothing else would have made Tim step down from being Batman.

Because that would have meant leaving Damian. And Dick, and Jason, and the kids, Cass, Steph, Bruce...

And damnit, when had Damian become his favorite? Tim sniffled discreetly.

“You are, and will forever remain, a fool, Drake,” future-Damian huffed. “No one is dead. No one is injured. Father dyes his hair. Grayson has another child. You married the Clone to get him on your medical plan. We are fine.” Future-Damian turned to Jason. “The Joker is dead.”

Jason whooped in happiness. “How-“

“Paradox, that’s all I can tell you,” future-Damian said quickly. “Drake, you tremendous tit,” he said tenderly, “are you satisfied now?”

Tim nodded dumbly. Everyone was fine. They were fine, and somehow, they were happy.

“Tim married Conner to give him medical insurance!?” Bruce thundered.

“Aw yeah, I married my best friend,” Tim pumped his fist in the air. “Are we happy together?”

“Nauseatingly so,” future-Damian replied. “You call each other “bro”, and then snuggle each other aggressively. It is disconcerting to your actual brothers,” he said, glaring meaningfully at Tim. 

“Selina, I’m going to be related to Clark,” Bruce said, sounding horrified, as she led him over to the sofa, where he slumped down, a broken man. “We’ll have to listen to him talk about the cows, and harvest, and corn, and I can’t-!”

“Hush, my darling, it will be alright...”

As Bruce continued to hem and haw about Clark’s country ways invading his life, Damian engaged his future self. “I am glad to see that I will grow to be as tall as Father. Tell me, when did we hit our growth spurt?”

“You are sixteen now?” Damian nodded. “Then it will be in a few months time. If you don’t want to delve into Todd’s cupboard, then I suggest you start purchasing a new wardrobe in advance.”

Jason perked up and pointed at future-Damian accusingly. “That’s my jacket! You thieving magpie!”

Future-Damian plucked at the vintage leather jacket smugly. “It serves my purposes well. And with your globetrotting lifestyle, it’s not as though you can carry your closet with you.” 

It wasn’t as though Damian had snagged the jacket when he had wandered into Jason’s empty room, subconciously missing his big brother’s grudging warmth and roughshod affection when Jason was on one of his trips, surely not! That would be ludicrous.

Dick’s eyes expanded and sparkled with realization. “Say nothing, Grayson,” future-Damian growled. Dick closed his mouth, but began to emit a high pitched squealing, much like a kettle on the boil. 

Both Damians rolled their eyes and the younger one turned to face his future self. “Tell me, are we still irrevocably in love with Colin?”

In lieu of a response, future-Damian held up his hand, which showcased an elegant ring in his fourth finger. “We are engaged to be wed within the year. It is to be a winter wedding. Father has bullied Colin into moving into the manor.”

“Winter weddings are very classy,” Damian nodded in agreement. “I wish us a successful wedding and satisfying nuptials.”

“We only had to wish Drake on a successful wedding,” future-Damian grinned. 

Tim’s jaw dropped, and he heard Bruce gasp. Jason said something to the effect of hurr hurr Tim’s a virgin, as though he had not milked that joke to death. As for Tim, he couldn’t believe his ears. Damian made a joke? At his expense, but still! The Waynes stared at both Damians guffawing merrily in shock, unable to reconcile their brooding teenager with this more open and lighthearted man. 

Before Tim could stop himself, he was reached out and gently touched both Damian’s cheeks to make sure that he wasn’t dreaming. “Drake!” The younger one spluttered, and rubbed the touched cheek vigorously. The older one accepted the light touch with a raised eyebrow. 

“This isn’t a dream,” Tim murmured wonderingly. 

Future-Damian’s eyebrow continued to climb his noble forehead. “I was of the belief that people pinched themselves to wake up from a dream.”

“Okay. Pinch me,” Tim said, and regretted his words immediately as several hands shot out to pinch his arm (Damian), cheek (Dick), thighs (Steph and Cass), ear (Duke), and buttocks (Jason). “I regret everything.”

“And I regret nothing,” Jason said. “You’ve got a surprisingly juicy tushy, Timbo.”

“It’s the damn squats that Dick’s having me do,” Tim replied, glaring at Dick, who was feigning innocence rather badly. 

At that moment, a small portal opened behind future-Damian and started to pulsate with a bright green aura. “Ah, its time for me to return to the future. I can actually hear my family,” he said, straining to hear and gesturing for quiet. 

The room fell silent as everyone tried to listen into the future. “...he’s been gone for so long, god knows how he is!”

“Fuck’s sake, Dick, it’s been fifteen minutes!” Future-Jason’s voice called.

“But I miss my Dami!”

Future-Damian smirked at the banter as another joined the fray. “Shut up, you cretins!” Future-Tim snapped, “I’ve managed to open the portal. Damian, can you hear me?”

“I’m here, Drake,” future-Damian called back with a smile. “Say hello to our past selves from ten years ago.”

Future-Tim stuck his head through the portal and smiled. “Hey, past fam.”

Future-Dick popped his head in as well with his customary blinding smile. Ten years later, and somehow, he had still not aged. “Hi past family! I hope you weren’t too scared by all this.”

“We’re fine,” Jason said. “Do you use botox, future-Dick?”

Future-Dick looked genuinely confused. “No, I don’t. I just think happy thoughts, it keeps me young!”

“Ugh.”

Future-Dick was shoved aside as Future-Jason put his hand through the portal and extended his middle finger. “Hey, fam.”

Delighted, Jason extended his own middle finger and touched his future self’s a la Michelangelo, but far cruder. “Neat. Future finger boop.”

“Come on, Dami, lets go home,” future-Dick smiled, “Maya misses you. She’s been crying the whole time.”

Immediately, future-Damian’s face crumpled when he heard of his Robin being upset. “Maya, I’m coming!” He called, and leapt through the portal, where he was greeted by the cheerful cries of the children. 

“Bye, past Us,” future-Tim said, and closed the portal. 

Silence descended upon the Manor as it’s inhabitants fell into a contemplative silence, considering their futures. It was heartening to see that they were all alive and well, and had retained their tightly knit familial bonds. 

“Timothy Wayne, if you elope and marry Conner then you will give your father a heart attack,” Bruce threatened his son. 

“We’ll make it a destination wedding,” Tim tried compromising. 

“A traditional wedding, here, in Gotham with a rabbi presiding, and that’s the last I’ll hear of it!”

“Fine,” Tim conceded. 

Meanwhile, Damian was looking particularly happy. “I become the Bat,” he said softly. “My potential will finally be realized.”

“I always knew that you would attain your life’s goals, Dami,” Dick fawned over his baby brother, who glowed at the praise. 

“Ugh,” Jason said, “how do you not spontaneously grow a uterus?”

“Affection is gender neutral, Little wing,” Dick explained. 

“Yes, Todd, listen to Grayson. Although I doubt that your tiny mind would be able to comprehend his pearls of wisdom.”

“Hey!”

“Silence! I have not the time to argue with you!” Damian cried. “I must prepare for my growth spurt. Drake, drive me into the city - I need a new wardrobe! Hurry, for I must also start making an altered Robin suit!”

Tim found himself being whisked away by Damian, and noticed that they were being trailed by Dick, who had seen fit to accompany them to advise them on fashion. Attached to his right hand was a trail of his three giggling children, and to his left hand was Jason, who try as he might, could not break Dick’s grip. 

Piled into the car with his loud and genially boisterous family, Tim revved up the engine, and realized that he wouldn’t have it any other way.

………………………………………………………………………………………………………………


End file.
